


Marvin In The Psych Room: A 3-Part Mini Opera

by sacrebleu0



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: AP Psychology, Alternate Universe - High School, Blowjobs In A High School Bathroom, Charlotte is on the softball team, Cheating, Marvin and Cordelia are very gay, Marvin is Jason's tutor, Marvin is in denial, Mendel pretends to be a psychiatrist, Most of it's implied, Multi, So here we are, There's a few sex scenes but they're not very explicit, Whizzer is on the baseball team, because im a slut for hs aus, but it wasn't even close to being done, gay realization, i was originally gonna post this on the day of the ap psych test, tags will be updated as i post more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacrebleu0/pseuds/sacrebleu0
Summary: “Welcome to my office,” Mendel announced, grandiosely gesturing to the desks around him. Three chairs were aligned to make a faux therapist’s couch that Marvin was sure made Freud roll in his mother’s grave.“This is the AP Psych room,” Marvin retorted.“Same difference,” hissed Mendel, gesturing once more to the line of chairs. “Take a seat.”---Mendel wants to practice being a psychiatrist. Marvin regrets agreeing to be his patient. But, while he's at it, he might as well ask Mendel for some advice on a matter that has been particularly pressing to him.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaack!! It's been so long since I've posted on here!! And here's my first Falsettos fic, yaaaay. Ironically, Falsettos is by far my favorite musical, yet I've never written anything for it. So here's this fic!
> 
> General content warnings: there's some sex scenes but nothing explicit. Cheating. The drill.
> 
> Please enjoy! (◕‿◕✿)

“Welcome to my office,” Mendel announced, grandiosely gesturing to the desks around him. Three chairs were aligned to make a faux therapist’s couch that Marvin was sure made Freud roll in his mother’s grave.

  
  
“This is the AP Psych room,” Marvin retorted.

 

“Same difference,” hissed Mendel, gesturing once more to the line of chairs. “Take a seat.”

 

Marvin hesitantly sat on one of the chairs, giving Mendel an angry glare. “Does Mrs. Bergmann know you’re doing this?” he asked, glancing around the room. The school day had just ended, and Mendel had ambushed him outside of his sixth period and dragged him back to the Psych room in which he practically lived, mumbling something about an experiment like he was a mad scientist.

 

Mendel retrieved a clipboard from his backpack, clicking a pen against it in an official manner. “Tell me about your day.”

 

“That’s deflection,” snorted Marvin, pointing at him in an accusatory manner, “and for the last time, I’m not letting you psychoanalyze me.” He crossed his arms, slicing Mendel’s face in half with a razor-sharp glare.

 

“Maybe I can help! C’mon, it’s a win-win! I want to be a psychiatrist and you’re... mentally atypical, so why don’t we help each other out?” he proffered, twisting in his seat to face his patient with pleading puppy dog eyes that would make even Charlotte relent.

 

Marvin rolled his eyes. God knew that Mendel wouldn’t leave him alone until he complied, so maybe it was best to get it over with. (And, now that he thought about it, he definitely could use some advice...) A pregnant pause, and then he spoke. “Alright. Whatever. Fine.” He rubbed his face with his hands, wondering if he’d regret this decision. “But nothing leaves this room.”

 

Mendel’s face lit up and he smiled widely. “Of course! Okay, okay okay okay, so. How’ve you been?” he began, twisting back around in his chair and looking at Marvin out of his peripheral vision.

 

Marvin chuckled cynically. “Well, I’ve been just perfect, Dr. Weisenbachfeld!” he exclaimed sarcastically. “Which is why I’m sitting in the back of the AP Psychology classroom after school on a Thursday afternoon.”

 

Mendel whacked him in the shoulder with his clipboard. “C’mon, Marv. You’re not taking this seriously!” he whined petulantly, pouting to prove his point.

 

“Serious as a heart attack, Doc.” Marvin tried to find something for Mendel to therapize and settled on his test last period that went less than perfectly. “Well, I did absolutely horrendously on the Bio test today,” he confessed.

 

Mendel’s eyes lit up and he scribbled something on his board. “And how does that make you feel?”

 

Marvin laughed. “You’re making this so hard for me, ‘Del.” He sighed, letting the smile linger on his face. “And, uh... I dunno. Bad, I guess?”

 

Mendel threw down his clipboard to his lap and turned to Marvin, saying, “Okay, look, Marv. This entire week I could tell there’s been something on your mind. So just... tell me. Let it out, man. Safe space.”

 

Marvin’s eyebrow quirked up to his hairline. “You promise this doesn’t leave this room?”

 

“For sure. Patient confidentiality, Marvin.” Mendel tapped his temple, then looked sheepish. “...including Trina?”

 

“Especially Trina.” Marvin made eye contact with Mendel. “If you tell Trina, I will castrate you from the inside out so help me God. Am I clear?” he threatened, eyes boring holes in Mendel’s face.

 

“Crystal,” murmured Mendel.

 

An awkward silence with tense eye contact followed before Marvin turned back, trying to steel his nerves before confessing what’s been bothering him. “Well, it started about a week ago.”

 

—

  
  
_Marvin and Cordelia made their way to the baseball field where the softball and baseball teams were practicing. The sun was hot and the breeze was rare, as it tended to be in New York City Septembers. Marvin bitched about something unimportant, as always, and Cordelia laughed at him blithely, as always. They were going to watch Charlotte, Cordelia’s girlfriend and Marvin’s best friend, practice, and Marvin couldn’t be more out of his element. He wasn’t exactly a fan of sports—he vastly preferred the atmospheric (and air-conditioned) company of a theatre. In fact, he was leaving rehearsal early to accompany Cordelia because she didn’t want to be alone in the bleachers._

  
  
_Marvin came to the realization that he really should be appreciated more for the sacrifices he makes._

 

 _They finally reached the... mound? Arena? Diamond? Diamond sounded right. They finally reached the diamond, and it looked like both the women's softball and men’s baseball teams were working on throws or pitches or whatever. Cordelia sat him down next to her on the bleachers and pointed out Charlotte, gushing about how good she was._

 

 _“Look at that throw! She’s so good at throwing. You should let her teach you sometime, Marv,” she joked, elbowing his side playfully. Charlotte wound back and threw the ball as hard as she could and the ball made a satisfying smack against another player’s bat._

 

 _Marvin rolled his eyes. “I think a paraplegic toddler has more of an aptitude for sports than me.” He turned to the other side of the field where the boys’ baseball team was practicing. His eyes settled on one player in particular, a tall dark-haired boy with tan skin and a bright smile. He watched his muscles stretch and contract through his tight white shirt that left little to the imagination as he threw the baseball again and again. The movement was almost hypnotizing—the repetition and the perfect form was distracting._

 

 _“Who’s that guy?” he finally piped up, looking back at Cordelia. “The tall one.”_

 

 _“Hm? Oh, him? That’s Whizzer Brown. He’s in our grade and I have AP Euro with him. He’s pretty cool and Charlotte loves him,” Cordelia answered passingly._

 

 _“Whizzer? What the fuck kind of a name is Whizzer?” Marvin asked indignantly. He refused to believe such a boy like that had such an inane name._

 

_Cordelia merely shrugged, still preoccupied with watching her girlfriend._

_He settled back down in his seat, crossing his arms. His eyes were glued to the player—Whizzer—as he threw the ball over and over, every time perfect. Maybe Marvin could join the baseball team. Whizzer made it look so easy._

 

_He melted in the afternoon sun, the heat dripping from his face as he languidly took a drink from Cordelia’s water bottle every once in a while. He reflected on the sky, on the torn-up grass, on Cordelia’s wide smile, on the clouds, on the taste of water, on the curvature of Whizzer’s posture, on the hot metal of the bleachers beneath him._

 

_Finally the practice ended, and Charlotte raced up to the sideline to greet Cordelia. “Hey, babe!” she smiled, giving her an eager kiss. “I’m surprised you managed to drag Marvin along.”_

 

_“Me too, honestly. He’s been ogling Whizzer the entire time, though,” Cordelia snickered, handing Charlotte the remainder of the water._

 

_She hastily gulped it down, and Marvin didn’t blame her. “No I wasn’t,” he interjected._

 

_After she finished drinking, Charlotte ignored him and replied to Cordelia. “Really now? I’m sure Trina will be excited to know that. Anyway, Whizzer is a solid six on the Kinsey scale, so I’ll put in a good word.” She winked at a flustered Marvin before beckoning Whizzer over._

 

_“Fascinating! Well, I’m a flat zero, so don’t even think about what you’re thinking about and oh my God don’t call him over are you insane?!“ Marvin hissed, his voice turing more and more panicked as Whizzer approached._

 

_“What’s up, Char?” Whizzer asked nonchalantly, taking a long sip of his water bottle. Marvin couldn’t control his eyes as they wandered along his form, lingering on the tight, tight shirt. He was very well defined._

 

_“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to introduce you to my friend Marvin,” said Charlotte innocently, as if she didn’t just catch him in the act of checking him out._

 

_“Nice to meet you Marvin. I’m Whizzer,” the boy smiled, reaching out to shake Marvin’s hand._

 

_“I know.” His mouth suddenly went dry and he stared at his hand for a second, unsure of what to do. That brilliant smile was blinding. He snapped out of it and took his sweaty hand in his own, shaking it flimsily. “Not, like, I know you, I don’t, I, uh, I just know your name. I mean, I asked Cordelia. And she told me.”_

 

_Why the fuck did he just say that?_

 

_Thankfully, Whizzer just laughed and ran his hands through his hair, and Marvin didn’t realize his hair could get more perfect than it was previously, but damn. The late afternoon sun cast a halo of light around the crown of his head, making him look simply angelic. “Okay. Will I be seeing you around more?”_

 

_“Uhh...” Marvin began, looking to Cordelia for reassurance. She nodded enthusiastically, her blonde curls bouncing. “Sure.”_

 

_“Cool. See you later, then,” Whizzer beamed, waving at him once as he walked back to join his team._

 

_“You’re totally into him,” Charlotte snorted as Marvin went into anaphylactic shock._

 

 

_Marvin felt his face turn red and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the sun or because of the exposé. “No I’m not,” he weakly replied, burying his face in his hands futilely. The doting lesbians cooed and giggled, poking fun at Marvin as he groaned._

  
  
—

  


“So... are you gay?”

 

Marvin had almost forgotten that he was spilling his guts to Mendel and snapped out of his Whizzer-induced reverie. “Well, uh. I don’t know... maybe? At least, a little bit?” he whispered, like it was a curse word.

 

Mendel’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? But what about Trina?” he sputtered. 

 

Marvin stiffened at the mention of his long-time girlfriend. “I haven’t told her yet.”

 

Mendel threw his unused clipboard to the ground and turned to face him. “You haven’t told your girlfriend about how you don’t like girls?” he remarked incredulously.

 

“It’s not that simple, Mendel!” cried Marvin. “We’ve been together since the sixth grade. My parents want me to marry her. I can’t just...” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He felt like Atlas with the weight of the world (or, rather, a maybe-homosexual realization) on his shoulders, and he frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the migraine he could feel coming.

 

“Is there any more to the story?” asked Mendel, tone turned from accusatory to curious.

 

Marvin laughed cynically. “That was just the beginning.”  
  
—  
  
_Two days later, it’s Thursday—practice again. Thankfully, Marvin didn’t have rehearsal today, so he could tag along with Cordelia without feeling too guilty. For the past couple of days, the form of Whizzer Brown had haunted Marvin like a ghost and Marvin wished he could ignore it._

 

_“I made Charlotte and Whizzer these brownies, wanna try one?” she grinned, wafting the smell of brownie across to Marvin. He debated for a second before snatching one from the plate and shoving it into his mouth._

 

_Marvin didn’t think it was possible to fuck up brownies. He was wrong._

  
_After forcing himself to swallow, he sat on the hard bleachers and offered Cordelia a weak smile. He was looking forward to watching Whizzer practice to try and quell his inner turmoil._

  
_He pondered on Charlotte and Cordelia’s teasing for a bit. They thought he had a crush on Whizzer—which was definitely not true. He had a girlfriend, for God’s sake! But it was hard to deny the feeling in his chest when he saw Whizzer wind his arm back and then thrust it forward. He had thought about it a lot the nights previous, wondering if he really was into men. Maybe he was just... curious._

  
_Yes, he was curious._

  
_Aren’t all teenagers curious?_

  
  
_He watched as Whizzer took a break to stretch, and, to his dismay, make eye contact with Marvin. Marvin felt his face burn as Whizzer raised an eyebrow at him, pulling his arm across his chest and holding it. Marvin averted his gaze, watching him out of his periphery instead, his mouth dry. Whizzer then seemingly decided to stretch his legs and took a wide stance before folding at the waist, touching his hands to the dirt between his feet._

  
  
_Marvin took a big swig of Cordelia’s water to try and forget the absolutely sinful look that Whizzer gave him as he bent down. That had to have been on purpose, no way in Hell Whizzer just accidentally gave him a look like that while showing off his… form._

 _  
_ He wondered if he should tell Trina.

 

_Trina. He prayed he wasn't actually gay, because Trina didn't deserve that. Trina had been through enough heartbreak already. Marvin didn’t think himself abusive, but he could certainly be an asshole, to the point where Mendel had theorized he was naturally low in empathy due to his oversensitive temper and oft-callous remarks. Not to mention Trina’s overprotective, very Jewish parents that practically already had her entire life planned out for her--a future of being a housewife, being wedded to her childhood sweetheart, and praying at least three times a day. She was under a lot of stress already, and Marvin certainly didn’t wish to add to that with something as trivial as an improbable sexuality shift._

 

_So, there he was, eyes trained on Whizzer’s ass and sweat dripping down his temples. He blamed it on the heat wave that was supposedly ravaging New York that week and drank some of Cordelia’s water while she wasn’t looking._

 

_Much to Marvin’s chagrin, the entire practice went this way; Whizzer catches Marvin staring, Whizzer does a suggestive action like rubbing the handle of his bat, Marvin looks away shamefully, Whizzer refocuses on baseball, wash, rinse, and repeat. After the halfway point water break, Marvin excused himself, mumbling a half-hearted excuse to Cordelia about needing to pee, and making off for the bathroom. Once he made it to the single-stall boys’ bathroom, he locked the door and took a deep breath. It was, thankfully, cooler in the bathroom due to the tiny wall-mounted AC in the corner.. He approached the dingy mirror and splashed his face with ice cold water from the ceramic sink, hoping to snap himself out of it. He had never been this affected by a man before; what was wrong with him? He looked at himself in the mirror and saw the deep red blush that spread across his cheeks and nose only partially due to the heat wave._

 

_Once he realized his reflection didn’t hold the answers he seeked, he buried his face in his hands and sunk to the cold, teal tile beneath his feet. Dragging his hands down the planes of his face, he took in his surroundings to ground himself. The tile was filthy, which only made Marvin feel marginally worse about sitting on it, and the walls were made of brick that was once painted white, now a much less appealing cream shade and covered in graffiti. Inscribed on the wall in Sharpie were such poetry as “your gay” and a large, rather inaccurate depiction of a penis. The sink was covered in dirt and the paper towel dispenser was empty, as he suspected the conditions in most public school bathrooms were._

 

_Marvin’s thoughts inevitably drifted back to Whizzer. Was he trying to seduce him? Or, as the most likely solution was, was Marvin going irrevocably, absolutely, batshit insane? He thought back to Charlotte’s comment, that he was a firm six. He must have been openly gay. Marvin discovered that he admired that. To be fair, in modern New York, gay people weren’t exactly uncommon, but high school is rough, and it did take courage to be open about it, especially when the said homosexual plays sports. He wondered how Whizzer faired in the locker room—did he get ostracized for his sexuality? Maybe thinking of Whizzer in a locker room wasn’t the best idea to avoid a gay crisis._

 

_Marvin felt heat flush his body as his mind wandered, and in a heartbeat his hand was down his pants, with heavy breaths wracking his body. He instinctively bit his lip hard, unable (and unwilling) to get the image of Whizzer out of his hazy mind; Whizzer showering in gym class, Whizzer stretching and showing off for Marvin, the curvature of Whizzer’s throat as he downs half a bottle of water in one go, Whizzer’s hair that goes flying as he runs from base to base, Whizzer, Whizzer, Whizzer._

 

_Marvin lets out a low, guttural groan before withdrawing his hand, sitting in the afterglow for a few minutes, sensation flooding his body in waves. Pushing his sweat-slicked hair back and off of his forehead, he slowly regained mental acuity. He realized that he was quick—embarrassingly quick. He had never been so… efficient before, and especially not with Trina, with whom he sometimes didn’t even come at all._

 

_He stood with wobbly knees, body still tingling in some areas, and washed his hand of his shame. That was easily the most intense orgasm he had ever had, and it was due to Whizzer fucking Brown._

 

_Okay, so maybe he was into men._

 

_Guilt immediately fell over him like an illness—Trina. Was it cheating? No, of course not, he didn’t even interact with Whizzer at all. But it felt an awful lot like cheating; dirty, despicable cheating. It was almost-cheating, too close to cheating for comfort. He wiped his wet hands on his shorts to dry them and took a deep breath, readying himself to exit the bathroom._

 

_—_

 

“That’s not cheating, Marvin,” Mendel said, eyebrows furrowing.

 

“How would you feel if your boyfriend was jacking off to some random dude he barely even knew in the bathroom by the baseball field?” Marvin refuted, glaring at his faux-therapist. Why was he even cooperating with this, much less spilling his guts about one of the most shameful things he’s ever done?

 

Mendel paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s normal to accidentally think of things at inappropriate times,” he replied tactfully. Marvin scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes at the downright patronizing language. Mendel turned to him and asked, “Am I the only one you’ve told about this?”

 

“Well… kind of?”

 

_—_

 

_It was already Friday, and Marvin was beyond thankful for the week to be over. All he had to do now was tutor Jason, and he was free for the weekend._

 

_Jason was the thirteen year old kid Marvin tutored in math on Fridays, and was practically a little brother to him. Both Marvin and Jason were only children, so they relished in having a big brother-little brother relationship. Marvin had often been the sponge for Jason’s long rambles about the hot girls in his class, and Jason had often had to sit through Marvin’s pained monologues about how his relationship with Trina is horrifically dysfunctional._

 

_So they helped each other out._

 

_Which is why Marvin wasn’t horribly surprised when he asked him a strange question._

 

_“Marvin… what is love?”_

 

_Marvin relaxed his grip on the pencil he was using to write out the quadratic formula and raised an eyebrow at Jason. “Baby don’t hurt me?”_

 

_Jason punched him in the arm and looked away. “Shut up, you know what I mean. Have you ever been in love?” he asked, quieter this time._

 

_A pregnant pause. Marvin laid the pencil down on the worksheet and sat back in the uncomfortable library chair, thinking for a second before replying. “No, I don’t think I have.”_

 

_Jason’s expression turned to confusion. “Why not? I thought, you and Trina…” He wisely didn’t finish the sentence, and Marvin chuckled._

 

 _“If that’s what love is, I never want to fall in it.” The mood became somber. Jason played with a fraying shoelace on his Converse, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times. Marvin finally broke the silence. “Not that Trina isn’t a wonderful girl,” he backpedals, “but I’m just not_ in love _with her, I don’t think.” He picks at his fingernails. When did algebra turn into an in-depth analysis of Marvin’s love life? “I’ve been infatuated and fallen in lust before, but not capital-L Love. Why do you ask?”_

 

_Jason shrugged, picking up the pencil Marvin dropped. “I dunno. There’s this girl in my class and I’m trying to decide if I should invite her to my bar mitzvah. I don’t think I like the girls I should like, Marvin,” he laughed, before jotting down ( x + 5 )._

 

_“Well, what kind of girls do you like?” Marvin replied before crossing out the 5 and correcting it to a 10._

 

_“Girls who wear short skirts. Girls who smoke. Girls who act mature and wear makeup,” Jason mumbled, realizing his mistake and fixing it on the paper. “What girls do you like, Marv?”_

 

_Marvin couldn’t help but scoff, leaning his head back to rest on the back of the chair. The quiet library atmosphere betrayed the, frankly, quite hilarious situation he was in. Should he tell Jason about his probable homosexuality, or should he lie and make something up about liking women like Trina? “Uh… I like. Nice girls, I guess?”_

 

 _Jason half-laughed and gave him a skeptical glance. “Be_ more _vague, please.” Marvin wondered if Jason got his sarcasm from him._

 

_“Well, uh… to be blunt, I’m not sure if I like girls,”he said slowly, tactfully._

 

_Jason blinked and looked at him. “But what about Trina?” Marvin shrugged, and he got the message. “Why don’t you break up with her then?”_

 

_Marvin wrung his hands, sighing. “I’m not sure. About anything. The only reason this came about was because of this stupidly hot boy on the baseball team,” he admitted nervously._

 

_“Who is it?” poked Jason, a sly grin on his face._

 

_“I’d never tell you in a million fucking years!” Marvin laughed. He was then shushed by the librarian, and Jason tried to hold back giggles. “As if you know anybody outside of your Minecraft server,” he jabbed affectionately._

 

 _“Minecraft is an_ art _, okay?” Jason hissed. Companionate silence came about them as he finished the equation and Marvin checked his work. “So I have to FOIL these?”_

 

_“Yeah, you do, and you end up with x plus ten, not plus five.”Marvin fidgeted with his thumbs._

 

_“I see.” As Jason started on the next problem, he proffered, “If you ever want to talk about the guy, you know I’m all ears. You’ve listened to me bitch about Julie Johnson and Tiffany Axelrod and Zoe Feinstein for over a year now, so it’s only fair.”_

 

_Marvin smiled softly; Jason was one hell of a kid, even if he did suck at math. “Maybe I will sometime. Just not now.”_

 

_Jason nodded. “Now, can you explain to me how to factor a polynomial again?”_

 

_—_

 

Mendel nodded. “So you have a solid support system, it seems.”

 

Marvin’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah. He’s pretty great.”

 

During Marvin’s recounting of his story, Mendel must’ve picked up the clipboard that had lain on the linoleum, because Marvin saw him jot something down. “So you didn’t tell Jason Whizzer’s name because…?”

 

“It’s too soon. What if it turned out that I’m not even gay and I’m just tripping balls? I don’t want Jason to tell the guy anything on the off chance that he does know him.” Anxiety bubbled in Marvin’s throat as he imagined Jason, who didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut about anything ever, going up to Whizzer and blurting out that Marvin had a huge, gay crush on him. Yeah, he’s definitely not telling him.

 

“So, what I’m hearing is you’ve got trust issues?”

 

“Trust issues?” sputtered Marvin. “I don’t have ‘trust issues,’ I just know Jason well enough to know that he has no damn filter!”

 

Mendel wrote something down. Marvin fought the urge to snap the clipboard in half. “Is that the whole story?” Mendel asked.

 

“Not quite.”

 

—

 

_The weekend was absolutely agonizing. All Marvin could think about was Whizzer’s physique, Trina’s broken heart, Jason’s curiosity, and the lesbians’ knowing looks. He got a text from Trina on Sunday asking if they could have a study session for APUSH on Thursday. He reluctantly agreed, not looking forward to an awkward evening of Trina trying to kiss him. He wondered if feeling this way made him a shitty person, and figured that it most definitely did._

 

_Tuesday came—practice day. Marvin excused himself from theatre rehearsal (not like it mattered too much anyway; he was a tech and the rehearsal was focused on choreography that day) and met Cordelia outside the auditorium, walking with her to the field._

 

_“Got something on your mind, Marv?” she asked, looking at him._

 

_Marvin noticed that he had been lost in thought for the entire walk, and they were already at the gate. He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”_

 

_“Y’know, you do worry me sometimes.” She opened the chain link gate with a loud creak and threw it open for Marvin. “You always overthink everything. It’s just not healthy.”_

 

_Marvin followed after her and closed it gently. “What are you trying to say?”_

 

_She looked back at him and grinned her famous wide-mouthed Cordelia grin, her blonde hair glowing in the late summer sun. “Live a little! Take that stick out of your ass for two seconds and get out of your head! You should do yoga with me sometime,” she laughed, grabbing Marvin’s arm and leading him to their spot on the bleachers._

 

_Marvin meditated deeply on her advice for the majority of the practice. He did have the tendency to overanalyze almost every action he did, which is probably why he got angry so often—when he’s mad, he doesn’t think about what he’s doing, and he supposed that was kind of freeing in a fucked up, insanely unhealthy way. He and Trina got into yelling matches fairly often. Maybe he should break up with her, regardless of his sexuality. Speaking of his sexuality… Whizzer had to be doing this on purpose. It seemed like bathroom stops would be a common occurance if he kept sitting in on these practices._

 

_Practice flew by quickly, and Charlotte jogged up to the bleachers to meet Cordelia, greeting her and stealing her water bottle. All three of them chatted for a few minutes before Marvin made for the bathroom again, relieved to find it empty. Once again, he splashed his face with cold water and looked at himself in the mirror._

 

_The door opened behind him and he spun around in surprise. “Hey, this is occu—”_

 

_Of course._

 

_It was none other than Whizzer Brown, with a sly smirk on his face and his baseball bag slung across his torso._

 

_“Fancy seeing you here, Marvin.” He dropped the bag by the door and locked it._

 

_“What… why are you in here?” Marvin feebly replied, feeling his face turn red as he watched Whizzer look him up and down. He tried to subtly cross his legs._

 

_Whizzer quirked an eyebrow and took a step closer to him. “I could ask you the same question.” Marvin’s heartbeat quickened and he swallowed his nerves, unable to keep his eyes off of Whizzer’s sweat-soaked (and, therefore, transparent) white shirt. He noticed that Whizzer was taller than him. He found it wildly attractive._

_  
_ _“I, um. I was just going to pee,” Marvin managed to eke out, his mouth having gone dry._

 

_Whizzer laughed a throaty laugh and Marvin’s legs went to Jell-O. “Cut the shit, Marv. We both know why you’re here. And I’m sure you can guess why I followed you here.” He took another step closer and Marvin took another step back, feeling his back hit the cool brick wall and gasping quietly. “You’re not exactly subtle,” Whizzer teased, reaching his hand up to touch Marvin’s cheek softly. The rough, calloused texture of his thumb made Marvin shiver involuntarily, and his brain short-circuited._

 

 _He saw Whizzer lean forward, and he felt Whizzer’s hand angle his jaw, and he sensed Whizzer’s anticipation, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let this happen. He had a girlfriend. But God, did he want to. He really, really, wanted to. Cordelia’s words echoed in his mind:_ Live a little! Get out of your head!

 

_Fuck it._

 

_He surged forward and met Whizzer’s lips halfway, his hands reaching up to find the nape of his neck and threading his fingers through his perfect hair. Whizzer made a happy sound and let his free hand fall to the small of Marvin’s back, pulling his body flush to his own. Marvin could feel his entire body go up in flames, every inch of skin that touched Whizzer’s burning and smoldering and lighting up his nerves._

 

_Marvin found it impossible to keep his hands in one place, touching Whizzer’s hair and his neck and his back and his arms and the backs of his thighs. This was so radically different than kissing Trina—kissing Trina was soft, chaste, PG-13, while kissing Whizzer (holy fuck, he was actually kissing Whizzer) was electrifying, passionate, hedonistic, and Marvin couldn’t possibly think of any more words at that moment because Whizzer was taking his bottom lip between his teeth and shit, Marvin just melted._

 

_He couldn’t keep a low moan from slipping out as Whizzer pulled off from him, grabbing him by the hips and pushing him so he was half-sitting on the sink. Whizzer attached to his neck, making Marvin gasp and bite his lips to avoid making noise. This had to be Heaven, sitting in a bathroom while Whizzer sucked and bit Marvin’s neck, which would definitely leave hickeys that he would have to explain but he didn’t particularly care._

 

_Whizzer pulled off again, making Marvin whine in a hazy makeout-induced fog before he saw him sink to his knees and Marvin didn’t connect the dots until he felt the button of his shorts being undone. His pulse jumped as he looked down at Whizzer, realizing that wow this is definitely happening and this is definitely cheating. But he was surprised to learn that he didn’t actually care too much in the moment—he just let himself focus on what Whizzer’s hands and mouth were doing and completely lost himself in the sensation._

 

_The feeling was overwhelming, flooding all of Marvin’s senses; he saw the top of Whizzer’s head, felt Whizzer’s hair between his fingers, tasted Whizzer on his tongue, heard the little noises Whizzer made, smelled Whizzer’s deodorant that was mildly citrus scented. Whizzer was all-consuming._

 

_Whizzer rose, wiping the remnants from his mouth. “Glad you gave me the honor of being your first,” he snickered, fixing his hair in the mirror._

 

_“You’re not my first,” Marvin replied, eyebrows furrowed as he moved aside to let Whizzer see the mirror._

 

 _“Semantics, semantics. First_ with a dude _.”_

 

_Marvin looked at him and hoped he didn’t notice him bracing the wall so he wouldn’t fall from the intense aftershocks. “How did you know that?”_

 

_Whizzer pulled out a Sharpie from his bag and grabbed Marvin’s arm roughly, scrawling a phone number on his forearm. “It’s not hard to tell, if you know what to look for. I mean, Hell, I don’t think you stopped looking at my ass for more than a second for the entire practice. Patience is a virtue, Marv.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to leave before looking over his shoulder and saying, “You should probably zip up before you leave.”_

 

_Marvin looked down and hastily zipped his fly as Whizzer left the bathroom, leaving him alone and confused but basking in the afterglow. His fingers traced the handful of hickeys on his neck and gulped; how was he going to explain that to his parents, to Trina, to his friends?_

 

_—_

 

“Is that why you wore a fucking turtleneck yesterday?” Mendel exclaimed in disbelief.

 

“Turtlenecks in summer are a trend now,” remarked Marvin defensively, crossing his arms.

 

“Why aren’t you wearing one now? Your neck looks fine,” asked Mendel.

 

Marvin’s fingers went to his collarbone. “I looked up how to cover up a bruise and drove to CVS and bought concealer. Did you know that buying makeup is actually ridiculously hard? I couldn’t tell if I was more of a ‘Sand’ or a ‘Creamy Beige.’”

 

Mendel shook his head and laughed. “Well, that was definitely cheating.”

 

“I’m well aware.”

 

“But then why did you do it?”

 

Marvin looked at his shoes. “I… I don’t know. Curiosity? I mean, my sex life with Trina is practically nonexistent, and it’s my fault—I just can’t get off to her, so I never accept her propositions. I thought it would be different with Whizzer, and it definitely was. So, I guess that’s why I did it. Scientific method?”

 

“Marvin, you’re a sociopath,” Mendel sighed. “Okay, so, you have to tell Trina. As soon as possible.”

 

Marvin groaned, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. “But how can I do that? She’d be so heartbroken, she doesn’t deserve that. Not to mention our parents.”

 

“I think she’d be far more heartbroken if you kept cheating on her!” whisper-yelled Mendel. “Okay, okay, okay. I think I’m done therapizing you for this session. I need to think about how to… fix this.”

 

Marvin checked his watch and cursed. “Fuck, I have to go study with Trina.”

 

Mendel gave him a look.

 

“I’ll tell her eventually. Just not now.”


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late!! I was actually in a musical of my own for the past few weeks and it closed last night, so now I have a lot more free time. Anyway, here's part 2!

Marvin hesitantly opened the door to the Psych room, relieved to find it empty save for Mendel. It was a week since his last “session” with him—a very eventful week, at that. As much as he hated to say it, he was looking forward to hearing what Mendel had to say about what had happened. “Hey, Mendel,” he greeted, dropping his bookbag on one of the desks and approaching the row of chairs he sat in last time.

 

“Hi Marv.” Mendel already had his clipboard from last time on his lap, too, and Marvin rolled his eyes as he fell into the chair. “I have to say, I’ve been looking forward to this. The rumors have certainly taken on a life of their own.”

 

Marvin groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure they have. What’re they saying?”

 

“The most interesting one is that Trina dumped you because you were addicted to heroin,” Mendel laughed, searching in his backpack for a pencil. “Which, from what I heard from you last week, is probably preferable to the truth.”

 

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” mumbled Marvin, resting his chin in his hand. “Well, I guess you’re dying to know my side of the story, huh?”

 

Mendel shrugged. “Just a little.”

 

Marvin took a deep breath, pausing half for suspense and half for anxiety, and began. “Remember last time when I left for a study date with Trina?”

 

—

 

_ Marvin sat on the old, dingy couch that was probably older than he was in his living room, flipping through the Biology textbook apprehensively. He was definitely not looking forward to studying with Trina, especially after his damn near Biblical revelation with Whizzer. He already knew how it was going to go—she’d ask him a question, he’d answer, she’d put her hand on his knee, he’d shake it off, she’d scoot closer to him, he’d ignore it, she’d try to kiss him, he’d lean away—like clockwork. It made him feel guilty, like he wasn’t meeting Trina’s needs, which was likely true. He thought of Mendel’s advice; he could break up with her now, but that seemed cruel during what she expected to be just a study date. Later, he promised himself. Later. _

 

_ A knock on the door. Marvin rose and opened the door for her, smiling a tight-lipped smile and greeting her. “Hey, Trina.” _

 

_ She kissed him on the cheek and walked to the dinner table, gently laying her backpack on it and thumbing through the books in it. “Hi, Marvin, how has your day been? It feels like we haven’t talked in forever,” she said, withdrawing her biology textbook and placing it on the table. _

 

_ Marvin shrugged, taking a seat next to her. “It’s been well, I’ve been well.” He shifted in his chair. _

 

_ “That’s good to hear. And theatre?” she asked, making small talk as she flipped open her binder. _

 

_ “Good. Our production of Pippin is really coming along.” _

 

_ Short, clipped sentences. _

 

_ “Oh, that’s wonderful. When was opening night, again?” _

 

_ Vague niceties. _

 

_ “The thirtieth. You’re still coming, right?” _ __  
  


_ Veiled boredom. _

_  
_ _ “Of course. Anything for Marvy,” she grinned, nudging his shoulder with her own. He let out a strained laugh. “So, I was hoping we could review the chapters on biochem and the electron transport chain,” she continued, flipping Marvin’s textbook open. _

 

_ And so an hour passed of Trina and Marvin conversing about sodium-potassium pumps and chemiosmosis, making Marvin nearly scream in frustration. He couldn’t get Whizzer Brown out of his head; if Whizzer was here instead of Trina, God knows what kind of things they’d be doing. _

 

_ Trina’s hand roamed to his knee, just as he’d predicted. He pushed it off, reaffirming his ostensible interest in the material. “So, oxidative phosphorylation produces ATP and—” _

 

_ “Marvin, for God’s sake, what’s wrong?” cried Trina, cutting him off. “You never want to… be intimate anymore,” she mumbled, looking back down at her book sheepishly as if she regretted saying anything. _

 

_ Marvin sighed, one hand reaching to his forehead as he calculated what the best response would be. “I’ve just been stressed lately, Trina, it’s nothing to worry about.” _

 

_ “Are you sure?” she asked desperately, looking back at him. “What are you stressed about? Maybe I can help.” _

 

_ Marvin hated lying. “Uh, well, I mean, this Bio test is going to be hard, and I still have to figure out what lighting to do for Pippin, and how we’re going to pre-set all the props, and not to mention the US History test next Wednesday, and I think I might have a cold.” He coughed into his arm to demonstrate as he felt himself start to sweat. _

 

_ Trina paused for a moment, eyes searching his face for the truth, and then she relaxed, slumping back in her chair. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. This is a hectic time, isn’t it?” _

 

_ “For sure,” Marvin agreed, fighting the anxiety that bubbled up in his throat like bile. He jotted down a chemical equation with a shaky hand as Trina looked up at the ceiling beside him. _

 

_ “Okay, let’s just finish reviewing this section, and then I’ll let you get some rest,” Trina suggested with a lilted tone, refocusing on the material one last time. Marvin’s heart rate returned to normal, breathing a sigh of relief internally. _

 

_ How long could he keep this up? _

 

_ —  _

 

Mendel hit himself in the forehead with his clipboard. “You had the  _ perfect opportunity _ to tell her! Why didn’t you just tell her?” he exclaimed, absolutely bewildered.

 

Marvin shot him a venomous glare. “Fuck off, Mendel. It was a split-second decision! I just didn’t want to hurt her. Contrary to your belief, I don’t  _ want  _ to be a dick.”

 

“No, you just want to suck it,” Mendel grumbled under his breath, obviously exasperated.

 

—

 

_ “Bye, Trina,” called Marvin as she drove out of his driveway and down the street in her yellow Beetle. He paused before re-entering the house, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening the text messenger app. He had entered Whizzer’s number in his phone immediately after he wrote it on his arm, but he hadn’t texted him—he was too scared. Now was the time, he figured. _

 

[6:28 PM] Marvin: Hey, Whizzer. It’s Marvin.

 

[6:28 PM] Marvin: From the bathroom.

 

_ To his surprise, the response wasn’t immediate. He shoved the phone back in his pocket bitterly, figuring that Whizzer wasn’t sitting around and waiting for a text from the bathroom blowjob guy. He realized that if he had given Whizzer his number instead of vice versa, he definitely would have been watching his phone with eagle eyes. _

 

_ The minutes passed like eons, every second without a text from Whizzer like a decade in prison. Marvin realized he was being melodramatic, but it was truly agonizing to see that maybe Whizzer didn’t care about him nearly as much as he cared about Whizzer. Did he care about Whizzer? He could practically hear Cordelia’s smug-ass voice in his ear, telling him to stop overanalyzing everything. Maybe she was right. Maybe his phone died. Maybe  _ he  _ died. Maybe— _

 

_ Chime. _

 

_ Marvin withdrew his phone from his pocket at the speed of light, hastily unlocking it with shaking fingers and opening the new text. _

 

[7:16 PM] Whizzer Brown: whats up, doll?

 

_ Doll? What kind of presumptuous asshole was he, thinking that Marvin would play along with th— _

 

[7:17 PM] Marvin: Nothing.

 

[7:17 PM] Marvin: I was wondering if you’d like to come over.

 

_ Marvin hated himself. _

 

[7:21 PM] Whizzer Brown: right now? i have a busy schedule you know, i cant drop everything for some straight dude :p

 

_ Marvin’s blood began to boil and he replied on instinct. _

 

[7:22 PM] Marvin: I’m not straight.

 

[7:23 PM] Whizzer Brown: now we’re getting somewhere

 

_ Shit, that was a fucking trap, wasn’t it? He just wanted to make Marvin admit he wasn’t straight, that motherfucker. He took a moment to calm down before replying. _

 

[7:25 PM] Marvin: Clever girl.

 

[7:28 PM] Whizzer Brown: oo and he likes jurassic park, where do i sign up?

 

_ Marvin paused for a second, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. If he sent him his address, he’s inviting him into his home. It felt even more real than the fever-dream-like bathroom, more real than the baseball field, more real than thinking about him. This was acknowledging it. This was him making the conscious decision to cheat on Trina, to have sex with Whizzer instead; he couldn’t blame it on a spur-of-the-moment whim, he couldn’t blame it on the heat wave or the dehydration.  _

 

_ He took a deep breath and hit the send button. _

 

[7:37 PM] Whizzer Brown: ill be there in 15 xx

 

[7:38 PM] Marvin: Sounds good.

 

_ Holy shit. _

 

_ Marvin ran to the bathroom to fix himself up—he tugged a comb through his hair, splashed his face with water, sprayed himself with cologne, realized he probably put too much on, panicked, splashed himself with water to get some of it off, changed his shirt because it was wet, and sat back down on the couch to seem natural.  _

 

_ The door opened; no knocking. Whizzer Brown was in the entryway, shrugging off a varsity jacket and running a hand through his hair. “You need to replace this tile, it’s hideous,” he remarked, looking at the beige tile that lined the floor. _

 

_ “Nice to see you too,” mumbled Marvin, standing to greet him. Before he could even approach him, Whizzer had him pinned against the wall, kissing him like crazy. Marvin gasped, letting Whizzer completely overpower him. Making comparisons to Trina was probably creepy, but Marvin couldn’t help it—they were absolute polar opposites. The physical differences were the first thing he noticed; Whizzer was taller than Trina (and Marvin), Whizzer was tanner than her, his hair was shorter and coarser, his mouth was more skillful. Then he noticed the temperamental differences, which were just as apparent. Trina would never in a million years do something this bold, would never come to his house on a fifteen-minute notice to make out or more, would never give him hickeys on top of pre-existing hickeys as Whizzer was doing, would never shove him against a wall with the strength of someone who uses their arms an awful lot like Whizzer. _

 

_ Twenty minutes later, Marvin was lying on the dingy couch in the living room, his legs thrown over Whizzer, who was barely able to keep himself sitting upright on the couch. “Fuck. I’m literally about to pass out. We should do this every week,” Marvin sighed, trying to stave off sleep while relishing the afterglow. _

 

_ Whizzer fell against Marvin, after a beat passed. The couch was barely big enough for the two of them, leaving Whizzer to lie practically on top of Marvin. His breath tickled Marvin’s half-shirtless chest and his hair touched the bottom of his jaw, lying nearly parallel to him, his legs entangled in Marvin’s. Marvin hoped he couldn’t hear his heartbeat quicken, but considering as his ear was pressed to his ribcage, he likely could. “Hi there,” Marvin whispered into the crown of Whizzer’s head. _

 

_ Whizzer simply hummed in a post-sex haze, and Marvin saw his breathing slow as he seemingly slipped into sleep. Marvin had an idea, pushed it away, then went through with it anyway, petting Whizzer’s hair with a feather-gentle caress. When Whizzer didn’t stir, he carded his fingers through his hair half-subconsciously. The repetitive action lulled Marvin into sleep as well. _

 

_ When Marvin finally awoke, the sun was just beginning to break through the curtains, and he rolled over to check the time. 6:12. _

 

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. Did they just actually sleep through the night? That must’ve been… at least nine hours. Marvin couldn’t remember the last time he slept for that long. _

 

_ He looked down, and there was Whizzer, who had clung much closer to Marvin in his sleep, now wrapped around him from head to toe. His lungs constricted acutely, an undeniable warmth growing in his chest. He immediately tried to repress the emotions—no way in Hell could Marvin catch feelings for his fuck buddy, especially when said fuckbuddy is as narcissistic and spiteful as Whizzer. Marvin carefully tried to move the arms wrapped around his torso, but to no avail. He gently tapped Whizzer’s shoulder, applying more and more force until he responded. “Whizzer. Whizzer. Whizzer, buddy, wake up,” he hissed, realizing he was already late. _

 

_ “Hmm? Whuh?” slurred Whizzer, raising his head slowly and yawning. “What is it, Marv?” As he slowly opened his eyes, he sprung back as if burned, flying to the other side of the couch. “Holy shit, what time is it?” _

 

_ “Six fifteen. We have to go, or we’re going to be late,” Marvin stated, pushing himself off of the couch and shrugging off his opened button-up. _

 

_ Whizzer stayed on the couch, looking down at himself. “Shit, this shirt got stained. Do you have one I can wear?” he asked, finally rising. _

 

_ Marvin stopped and thought about it. “Maybe. All my shirts are going to be a little too small for you, though. Feel free to check out my closet and pick out whatever, though.” _

 

_ Chaos ensued as Marvin directed Whizzer through his house, trying to get ready while Whizzer ran through the house screaming about where the bathroom was. _

 

_ “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” yelled Whizzer down the hall.  _

 

_ “No, just use mine,” Marvin replied, tugging on a hopefully clean shirt. _

 

_ “What? That’s gross!” cried Whizzer. _

 

_ “You sucked my dick, Whizzer, you can share a fucking toothbrush.” _

 

_ “Touchè,” Whizzer mumbled, starting to brush his teeth as Marvin finished dressing himself. “Time?” _

 

_ “Six thirty-nine.” _

 

_ Marvin heard a muffled “shit” from the other room before Whizzer burst into Marvin’s room, shirtless, and opened the door to his closet. “Jesus, for all the time you spend in there, the closet’s awfully small,” he taunted, thumbing through the rack of clothes. _

 

_ “Ha ha, very funny,” commented Marvin dryly as he kicked on a pair of old sneakers. _

 

_ “All of these are fucking vile. Marvin, I’m taking you shopping after our next get-together,” Whizzer spat, putting emphasis on the word ‘get-together’ and seemingly unable to find a worthy shirt. He finally retrieved a light gray one with a band logo on it and pulled it over his head. Thankfully, it fit him, but it was just a little tight—something Marvin was sure would drive him crazy throughout the day. “This’ll have to do. Are you ready to go?” _

 

_ Marvin nodded before looking out the window and seeing what he assumed to be Whizzer’s car in the driveway; a tiny, black four-seater with a handful of dents. “Yeah. Do you mind giving me a ride?” A pause. “I mean, we’re heading to the same place, y’know, saving gas.” Another pause. _

 

_ “Sure. Sure, yeah. My car’s just a mess,” Whizzer said, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it to no avail. Marvin wished he could uncode the nearly imperceptible shift in the tone of Whizzer’s voice as he followed Whizzer out the door and into the driveway. _

 

_ Whizzer’s car was smaller on the inside, but neater than Marvin expected. Hanging from the rearview mirror was an air freshener shaped like a rainbow that smelled vaguely of citrus. The aux cord was tucked neatly into the console where Whizzer quickly retrieved it and plugged it into his phone. He hummed for a second before turning on a playlist, and the sound of Carly Rae Jepsen’s vocals drifted through the speakers as he reversed out of the drive and drove down the street.  _

 

_ — _

 

“Dear God Marvin,” Mendel wheezed. “She was barely down the street and you were already railing him?”

 

“I was stressed, Del,” Marvin sighed, shifting in his chair. “I thought you said you wouldn’t judge?”

 

Mendel raised his hands in defense. “I’m not judging. If anything, I’m impressed by your tenacity and persistence.” He looked down at his clipboard. “So, you fell asleep together. That’s oddly romantic, for a hook-up.”

 

Marvin shrugged. “So it is.”

 

“How do you feel about that?” Mendel pried.

 

Marvin wrung his hands before continuing. “I… don’t know. It’s reassuring, I guess. It felt nice.”

 

“Why is it ‘reassuring?’”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Mendel, I don’t know. I guess I was worried that he didn’t like me as much as I liked him.”

 

Mendel raised an eyebrow. “So you have feelings for him?”

 

Marvin opened his mouth to deny, but slowly closed it. Did he have feelings for him? Sure, he was ridiculously attractive, charismatic, snarky, suited Marvin’s dark humor perfectly, and was even friends with the lesbians, but that didn’t mean he had feelings for him, right?

 

Right?

 

“Maybe?”

 

Mendel jotted something down. “Continue.”

 

—

 

_ Jason flicked the pencil, launching the eraser into Marvin’s direction so it hit him on the cheek. He giggled as Marvin shot him a glare. “Do you want help with the quadratic formula, or do you want to use me as a punching bag?” _

 

_ “Yes,” Jason laughed, catapulting another eraser, this time landing it in the pocket of Marvin’s button-down. “Score!” _

 

_ Marvin chuckled, lunging in his chair to swipe the pencil from Jason. “I’m going to ground you, son,” he threatened jokingly, pointing at him with the tip of the pencil. _

 

_ “You can’t ground me, my bar mitzvah’s in a week!” Jason countered, jumping up to sit on the table and kicking his feet. Today, the tutoring session was at Marvin’s house, so they could be as loud as they wanted without the threat of a librarian’s wrath. _

 

_ “Don’t remind me,” Marvin mumbled. _

 

_ “Why not? It’s going to be awesome!” Jason grinned, looking at Marvin. _

 

_ “I feel old!” cried Marvin. “I remember when you were just a little twerp, and now, according to Judaism, you’re days away from being a man. That’s insane!” _

 

_ “Shut up, old man. Hey, how’s the thing with Trina and the hot guy doing?” Jason asked. _

 

_ Marvin sighed, setting the pencil down and leaning back. “Y’know, I’m not quite sure. I did get with the guy, though,” he said, whisper-mumbling the last part. _

 

_ Jason broke out of his bar mitzvah daydreaming to look Marvin in the face. “You mean you cheated on her?” _

 

_ “I guess.” _

 

_ Jason looked off. “Sheesh. You  _ are _ a bad influence.” He smirked at Marvin before looking more serious and continuing, “Look, does he make you happy?” _

 

_ “Yes.” _

 

_ “Does Trina?” _

 

_ “...No.” _

 

_ “Then I think it’s simple.” Jason jumped off the table. “Wanna play chess?” _

 

_ Marvin wondered when Jason grew so wise. _

 

_ — _

 

“He has a point. Trina doesn’t deserve to be strung along like this,” Mendel nodded sagely.

 

Marvin sneered. “Don’t be so high-and-mighty, Mendel. Why don’t you date her, if you’re so sure of how to treat her?”

 

Mendel rolled his eyes.

 

—

 

_ For the rest of the week, Marvin and Whizzer’s relationship fell in stolen moments and secretive glances—the handicap stall in the boys’ room, the locker room after Whizzer’s practice, in the backseat of Whizzer’s car... Marvin pushed the guilt down, down deep into his subconscious; how could he feel bad when Whizzer’s mouth is on his neck, biting yet another hickey into the skin? He had yet to confess to Cordelia or Charlotte, but their teasing was getting to be ridiculous. _

 

_ Marvin was only six minutes late to lunch, according to his watch as he ran to the lunch table. Upon his arrival, Cordelia wiggled an eyebrow and negged, “Why were you late? Had a hot date with Mr. Baseball?” _

 

_ Marvin thought back to four minutes ago, in the bathroom with Whizzer. He adjusted the collar of his shirt and rolled his eyes. “Definitely.” _

 

_ Cordelia giggled, poking her girlfriend with her elbow. “Don’t you think they’d make a great couple?” _

 

_ Charlotte bit into her sandwich and raised her eyebrows for a split second. “Well, what with Marvin’s sociopathy and Whizzer’s perpetual horniness...” She slyly smirked. “They’d fit like a glove.” _

 

_ Marvin stuck his tongue out and angrily ate his granola bar. “Easy for you to say. You two have been together for practically forever. How do you do it? Doesn’t the passion die?” _

 

_ Charlotte gave him a look. “It’s been barely a year. We’ve been together for only a fraction of your and Trina’s relationship. If anything, we should be asking you.” _

 

_ Cordelia continued her thought. “And, honestly, the passion hasn’t died. Maybe we’re still in the honeymoon phase, but it still feels like we just got together. You know, the giddiness and smiliness and warm fuzzy feeling?” She smiled up at her girlfriend and grabbed her hand, pulling it up to kiss it and then rubbing it with her thumb gently. _

 

_ Marvin paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, I guess.” He knew that the saccharine sweetness of their relationship would never be attainable with Whizzer, it just wouldn’t. He and Whizzer were too abrasive on their own, and together, it felt like sandpaper, or maybe a cat’s tongue—endearing, yet harmful. He meditated on that for a few minutes, wondering if his relationship with Whizzer could ever turn domestic like the lesbians’. Charlotte and Cordelia adored each other, while, to be completely honest, Marvin hated Whizzer a little. He was too cocky and too condescending, it felt almost emasculating. But, on the flip side, he was caring, making sure that Marvin was consenting to everything they did together, even if he was a bit rough. Not to mention how he cuddled up to Marvin that night… He wished Whizzer wasn’t so flippant and nonchalant about everything. _

 

_ Marvin suspected he was physically incapable of being nonchalant like Whizzer. He was always filled with so many emotions—shame, guilt, fear, arousal, giddiness, disgust, every emotion in the book. It was near impossible for him to think objectively like Charlotte, but he wasn’t carefree like Cordelia. He was just always worried about everything. _

 

_ He buried his head in his hands and waited for lunch to end. _

 

_ — _

 

Mendel clicked his pen and set it down. “Okay, I think I see the problem here. Or rather, problems.”

 

Marvin looked up at him cynically. “You really think so?”   
  


“Yes, I do, thank you very much,” Mendel snapped with no real malice. “So, about Whizzer. You seem like you’re trying to suppress your feelings for him. I want you to forget about Trina, forget about whatever sexuality issues you’ve got your britches in a twist about, forget about the lesbians, forget everything, okay? And I want you to tell me some things about your relationship.”

 

Marvin scoffed. Mendel wasn’t even a psychiatrist yet and he was already a damn quack. “Sure thing, doc.”

 

“What do you like about him?”

 

Marvin was ashamed that his response was immediate. “His hair, his eyes, his charisma, his confidence, his cockiness, his arms, his laugh, his smirk, his skill…” He trailed off, realizing his vulnerability and looking at the linoleum in shame.

 

Mendel raised an eyebrow. “So it’s safe to say you like him a lot?”

 

Marvin didn’t look up. “Yes.”

 

An uncomfortable silence. “How is he in bed?”

 

“By far the best I’ve ever had.”

 

“Is he rough?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is he ruthless?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is he narcissistic?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So, he treats you badly. But we just agreed that you like him, didn’t we?” Marvin nodded hesitantly. “Why is that? Why does he treat you that way and act so distant if you like him that much?” Mendel didn’t wait for a reply. “It’s because he doesn’t know you like him. He probably thinks you’re just another guy to screw around with because you haven’t given him a reason to think otherwise!”

 

Marvin bit the inside of his lip. “Let’s continue with the story.”

 

—

 

_ Another day, another study date with Trina. It was exactly two weeks after the day Marvin met Whizzer, and that made him feel a strange sort of bittersweet melancholy. If he had been told three weeks ago that he’d cheat on his girlfriend repeatedly with a man, he’d have laughed. What had his life devolved into? _

 

_ The door opened and Marvin jumped to his feet to greet Trina, but was shocked to find a much taller, much more imposing figure in the doorway. “Hey, Whizzer. What’re you doing here?” he asked, his voice hitching with anticipation. _

 

_ “Well, you told me that you were home alone today and tomorrow, and I got impatient,” Whizzer announced flippantly, sauntering into the living room where Marvin sat. “So I came.” _

 

_ Marvin’s eyebrows furrowed, realizing that Trina was on her way and would be there soon. He felt his blood pressure rise in anxiety and a hint of anger. “At least give me a heads-up, Whizzer! A text would’ve been nice!” _

 

_ Whizzer turned to look at him with raised eyebrows and lidded eyes. “I figured it wasn’t necessary.” He crossed the room and stood directly in front of Marvin, placing a hand on his knee. “If any of our previous times are any indication, we’ll be quick.” _

 

_ Marvin huffed incredulously, making eye contact and subconsciously spreading his legs. “I didn’t think we were aiming for longevity.” He crossed his arms and said, “You have to leave. Trina’s going to be here in less than fifteen minutes.” _

 

_ One knee at a time, Whizzer raised his legs and slid them on either side of Marvin’s, so he was effectively straddling his lap. Marvin’s breath caught and he looked up at Whizzer, instinctively reaching up to rest a hand on his waist. “I’m sure Trina can wait,” he whispered directly into Marvin’s ear before biting it hard. _

 

_ “Fuck you!” Marvin gasped at the sudden and unexpected pain. _

 

_ “With pleasure,” Whizzer retorted, capturing Marvin’s mouth in a rough, passionate kiss. _

_ The heat was intense and ubiquitous—hands roamed, mouths lingered, fingers hooked in belt loops, carded through tousled hair, running down planes of muscle. It was a hazy blur of give and take; Marvin lifted Whizzer’s summer camp counselor t-shirt off of his shoulders, Whizzer began sucking at Marvin’s jugular, Marvin gripped Whizzer’s hip with white-knuckle strength, Whizzer ripped Marvin’s button-up open in a fit of passion. This time was rougher, more animalistic than most—teeth and nails and breaking the skin in a way that could only be considered lascivious. When Whizzer lifted his head and exposed his throat, Marvin pounced, biting and nipping as Whizzer had done to him, relishing the sounds that left his lips. There was grinding and panting and clawing and, in an uncharacteristically characteristic move, Marvin grabbed Whizzer’s ass through his jeans, making him cry out lewdly. _

 

_ “Marvin?” came a timid voice from the hallway, and out stepped Trina, wearing a knee-length skirt and a cardigan and holding a textbook. _

 

_ Shit. _

 

_ Marvin froze. Whizzer didn’t, still kissing and rolling his hips above him. Marvin roughly pushed him off, hearing a yelp as he fell to the hard tile floor he purportedly hated so much. “Trina.” _

 

_ Silence. Whizzer looked from Marvin to Trina and understood, sitting on the floor and blinking. “So you’re the Trina I keep hearing about,” he mumbled, pushing himself to his feet and dusting off his pants. _

 

_ Marvin desperately wanted to yell at Whizzer and tell him that now was definitely not the time for his stupidly sarcastic remarks, but he figured that it wasn’t for the best. He reached for words to say but none came to him, and he finally settled on, “Trina, I’m so sorry—” _

 

_ “No,” she replied quietly, shaking her head and making her hair fly. “No, no, Marvin. It’s okay,” she whispered, looking down at the ground. “It’s okay, isn’t it, Marv?” _

 

_ He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. Whizzer reached for his shirt and put it on, zipping up his jeans that Marvin didn’t even notice had become unzipped. Marvin took the cue and began to button up his shirt once more, the skin on his chest that was once hot and sweaty now clammy and cold. _

 

_ Trina began to laugh. Not a joyful laugh or a fake laugh used at dinners with his parents that Marvin had heard many times before, but a high-pitched, tinny, stressed laugh. She sounded borderline hysterical, laughing and laughing and not taking a breath, her hand rising to hover about her mouth. Marvin’s heart fractured as he saw a tear roll down her cheek, then two, then four. Then she was flat-out bawling, all the while coughing and giggling. “I, uh. I’m gonna leave, Marvy. Have fun with your… study buddy,” she said, turning and leaving just as silently as she had entered, but slamming the door behind her as she left. _

 

_ Marvin collapsed back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands and taking a shaky breath. He fucked up. He fucked up badly. Irrevocably, irredeemably badly. How would he explain this to Trina? She must hate him now, and for good reason. How would he explain this to his parents? They wanted him to marry Trina, dammit, and they’re gonna need a good ass reason why they broke up after almost five years. Coming out was completely out of the question, and once his parents learned he cheated on top of that, he’d be toast. A million and one thoughts were running through Marvin’s head like verses from the Torah, condemning him to eternal fire and flame. _

 

_ “I’m sorry, Marvin,” offered Whizzer gently, sitting next to him on the couch and placing a hand on his back to comfort him. _

 

_ Marvin flinched at the contact. “Don’t touch me,” he whispered. He should’ve said no, he should’ve told him to leave, he should’ve at the very least heard the fucking door open. Shaky fingers ran through his hair to try and calm himself or steady his breathing, but accomplished neither. “Get out of my fucking house,” he commanded feebly, his voice cracking. The door shut. _

 

_ If only he had told her earlier, let her down with a dumb excuse like how busy he was or that he saw a sign from God or that Mercury was in retrograde, she wouldn’t have had to have seen that. He knew Trina, and he knew this was going to haunt her for years, and it was entirely his fault. He felt tears slide down his face and he angrily wiped them away.  _

 

_ It was all his fault. _

 

_ — _

 

“So that’s why you broke up,” Mendel said, looking quizzical. “You got caught in the act.”

 

“Yeah,” Marvin acquiesced, a tone of embarrassment in his voice. “I still feel like it was all a dream, that that didn’t really happen. It’s so surreal.”

 

Mendel blew out a tense breath. “Yeah. That was… a lot. I’ll talk to Trina, if that’s okay with you.”

 

Marvin choked on air before turning to face him with an incredulous look on his face. “Talk to Trina?” If she knew even a fraction of what he told Mendel, he was completely ruined.   
  


“Not necessarily about you, but just to try and give her peace of mind, maybe let her vent. I think we can agree that she deserves it.” Mendel glanced at his watch and stood from his chair, shrugging on his backpack. “It’s getting late. Think about what I told you about pushing down your emotions—maybe try journaling,” he recommended, turning to leave the classroom.

 

Marvin scoffed, but reached up to grab the sleeve of Mendel’s sweater before he left. “Del, do you think I’m a bad person?”

 

He paused. “I don’t think there are any completely bad people. Sure, you’ve done bad things, but you’re not a bad person  because of it.”

 

Marvin relaxed in his seat. “Thanks, Mendel.”

 

“But you  _ are _ a bad person for pouring the cereal in after the milk.”

 

“Fuck off and go eat some of your soggy-ass Cheerios!” he retorted, smiling. He sat in the hard, plastic chair for a little while longer, feeling marginally better about life. Maybe Trina will be okay after talking to Mendel. Maybe Whizzer will understand how Marvin feels about him. Maybe the lesbians will get off his back. Maybe Jason will invite the right girls to his bar mitzvah.

 

Maybe everything will be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are very very appreciated & are what keep me motivated to write! If you wanna talk whizzvin/Falsettos, talk to me @xsalazzle on tumblr! Love yall <3


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! Sorry this chapter took so long. But finally, here it is!
> 
> Special thanks to my personal hypeman & beta Jules!

Days passed. The creeping loneliness began to set in for Marvin.

 

He wondered if islands ever felt lonely. He definitely felt like an island for the past couple of days; Trina understandably wouldn’t talk to him, Whizzer wasn’t responding to his texts, and Mendel and the lesbians were completely AWOL. It seemed like everyone was holding him at an arm’s distance, and he couldn’t blame them. He did something horrible, and hurt two of the most important people in his life.

 

If only he still had Whizzer. Selfish as it was, he felt like he almost  _ chose  _ Whizzer over Trina. Having both was unreasonable, and Marvin knew that, so he figured he chose Whizzer deep down, and that’s why he didn’t hear the door open, and that’s why he didn’t tell Whizzer to get lost before Trina came, and that’s why he couldn’t keep his hands off him. But Whizzer didn’t choose him, if the radio silence on his phone was any indication.

 

_ Whizzer didn’t choose him. _

 

Marvin was so dumb for thinking Whizzer would choose him. So, so dumb. Whizzer, while narcissistic and cruel, was attractive, promiscuous, and sexually fraught—three things Marvin wasn’t, and never would be. But maybe it was for the better; Whizzer certainly wouldn’t change his sexual habits for Marvin, and Marvin needed a monogamous partner. (Oh, the irony.)

 

No matter how much he tried to convince himself he was better off without him, though, he still felt empty. Like he was tricked by the universe. Like this was all some holy retribution for thinking he could have it all.

 

He was so dumb.

 

He needed to get out of the house, to do  _ something _ . And thus he reflected, sitting in a booth alone at a Waffle House at the crack of midnight and mournfully eating a mediocre-at-best burger. The restaurant was nearly silent but for the sound of spatulas and shitty pop music playing through tinny speakers.

 

He pondered what he could’ve done differently, if it was possible to keep Trina, if Whizzer would ever talk to him again. He had truly, royally, irreparably fucked up his life, and now he was paying for it. Honestly, he figured that the only reason somebody would be eating at a Waffle House at eleven fifty-one in the evening is if their life had fallen apart as Marvin’s had.

 

Which was why he was surprised when Charlotte and Cordelia slid into the seat opposite him.

 

“Hey, buddy, how are you doing?” Cordelia cooed, reaching forward to rest a hand on his forearm lovingly.

 

Marvin coldly shook her off. “Oh, so now you’re done ignoring me?” he spat, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms.

 

Charlotte sighed and looked at the menu. “Look, Marv, we just didn’t know what to do. Trina and Whizzer were so mad, we didn’t want them to think we were…” She wisely decided not to finish that sentence.

 

Marvin looked up at her guiltily. “They’re that mad?”

 

Cordelia shook her head. “I don’t think they’re mad. More… hurt, I guess.” She fiddled with the salt shaker and the harsh lighting of the Waffle House cast a pallid sheen on her usually glowing face. “Trina is obviously confused and worried she turned you gay, and Whizzer is, well, I think he’s more frustrated than anything.”

 

“Whizzer knew what he was getting into the second he cornered me in that fucking bathroom,” hissed Marvin venomously, feeling resentment grow in his gut like bile. “I told him I had a fucking girlfriend, I told him I’d never done anything with a guy before, I told him she’d be home any minute, I  _ told him _ ,” he rambled, starting angry and bitter and quickly petering out, saying the last line with no hatred and tears welling in his eyes. He furiously wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his red hoodie.

 

“Oh Jesus, Marvin, please don’t cry,” Charlotte murmured, grasping his free hand with both of her own. 

 

“I’m not fucking crying, Char!” he burst louder than he intended, slamming his hand down on the table. “I’m not,” he reiterated, quieter this time after seeing the rest of the Waffle House patrons turn to look at him. He slammed a ten dollar bill on the table and stood, zipping his jacket up and storming out of the restaurant. He didn’t want to talk about it. He refused to talk about it. He didn’t want to even  _ think  _ about it.

 

Marvin exited the restaurant, brisk air stinging his face and making his eyes water more. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, keeping his head down against the October wind. He heard the lesbians following him and reached his car, unlocking it and taking the driver’s seat. Charlotte knocked on the window, pointing downwards. Marvin reluctantly rolled the window down a few inches, leaving a wall of glass between them. “Marvin, please, we just want to talk to you,” she pleaded.

 

Cordelia approached from the other side and slid into the passenger seat, adding, “It’s okay to talk about your emotions, Marv.”

 

Marvin slammed his palm against the top of the steering wheel, trying to let off some of his anger. He opened his mouth to explain, but as soon as he tried to speak, tears welled higher in his eyes and finally spilled, trailing down his cheek. He froze, letting the tears drip down his face. He was silent for a minute, letting Cordelia rub his shoulder gently. “I miss him.”

 

“I know, I know,” assured Charlotte.

 

A brief, but tense silence filled the car. He came to a realization. “I love him, Charlotte. I love him. I love him so much,” he whimpered, finally breaking down completely. Sobs wracked his body roughly, hiccups and sniffles following quickly after each sob as he lost control. He could barely believe he had devolved into a crying, bawling mess in the parking lot of a Waffle House over a stupid, charismatic, compassionate boy with too much product in his hair and designer socks. But no matter how hard he tried to deny it, and how hard he tried to stop himself, it rang true. He did love him.

 

Cordelia leaned her head on his shoulder affectionately, rubbing his arm to comfort him as he sobbed shamefully. “I’m s-sorry, It’s just—I feel like I dropped everything in my life for him, a-and now I’ve lost everything,” he sniveled. 

 

“Well, your relationship with Trina would’ve ended eventually anyway. Wouldn’t you rather have ended it after five years rather than ten?”

 

“Would it have ended?” he grumbled.

 

Charlotte gave him a look. “You’re gay, Marvin. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be single than struggle in a loveless, sexless relationship.” 

 

When Marvin was silent, Cordelia stepped in. “Marvin, you don’t see yourself like we see you. You don’t see how you looked at Whizzer before you even knew his name, you didn’t see how your face lights up whenever he walks into a room, you didn’t see how you were glowing when he gave you his jacket that one time, you didn’t see how you blushed every time someone asked you about the mysterious bruises on your neck. I’ve never seen you so much as smile at Trina. Ending it with Trina was the best thing to do; you need to stop second guessing yourself and just trust your gut,” she begged.

 

“You see how well it worked last time?” Marvin snapped, running a shaky hand through his hair. “You say all that romantic bullshit about how I’m so lovestruck with him, but what’s the point? He doesn’t feel the same. It just feels like you’re making fun of me at this point.”

 

Charlotte exhaled slowly before continuing. “Look, what makes you think that Whizzer isn’t just as miserable as you are?”

 

Marvin paused. All he heard were the sounds of crickets chirping and his own sniffling. “He hasn’t responded to any of my texts.” He wiped his nose.

 

“And? Wouldn’t you be avoiding the guy who told you to get out of his house?” Charlotte retorted.

 

“I’m just his fuckbuddy, okay? He’s probably already moved on.”

 

“Whizzer isn’t a playboy with no emotions, Marv. He’s a living, breathing human just like you.” Cordelia grasped his hand in her own, rubbing it gently to calm him down. “You just need to talk to him. In person.”

 

Marvin sighed, breath hitching and hiccuping. His eyes stung and his mouth was dry. As unenthusiastic as he was about talking to him, he realized that it was probably the best solution. “Thank you, guys. I needed this. I’m sorry I cried and everything.”

 

“Anytime, Marv. We love you, you know,” Charlotte grinned, reaching through the gap in the window to ruffle his hair. “Against all better judgement.”

 

“I love you, too. Now can you get out of my car so I can drive home?”

 

— 

 

A week had come and gone, and no word from Trina.

 

Marvin began to wonder if their friendship was even salvageable at this point. Losing your girlfriend (and close friend) of five years forever sucked, but ultimately, he understood. But he wanted at least a text confirming his suspicions that she wanted nothing to do with him.

 

Speaking of texts, his phone went off in his pocket as he walked to his car after school.

 

[3:03 PM] Freud Jr: Come to the psych room asap!!!

 

[3:04 PM] Marvin: Why? & why is this your first text to me in over a week?

 

[3:04 PM] Freud Jr: Just do itttt

 

Marvin rolled his eyes and turned back around to approach the school once more. What could Mendel have in mind? He cancelled their “session” the past week, so Marvin was completely confused.

 

Until he pushed open the door and saw Trina and Mendel sitting there, talking amicably.

 

He spun on the heel of his foot to walk right back out before Mendel called out, “Marvin! Don’t go, come sit!”

 

Marvin froze for a second, hand still gripping the door. He thought for a moment—what did he have to lose?—and reentered the room, slowly stalking closer as if he were trying to pet a feral animal. He hesitantly dropped his backpack on one of the unused desks, taking the seat across from Trina that Mendel was gesturing towards. “Glad you could come,” he remarked, moving his chair so he was more of a mediator between them.

 

“I didn’t expect this to be the emergency,” Marvin replied, feeling his muscles tense involuntarily as Trina reached into her bookbag to retrieve her cranberry chapstick.

 

“Well,  _ I  _ didn’t expect to walk in on you dry humping the guy in my AP Lit class,” she stated matter-of-factly, applying the chapstick and rubbing her lips together.

 

Marvin’s temper flared at the pure bitterness in her voice. Why was he even sitting here talking to her? All she was going to do was blame him for everything, which was probably fair, but God dammit she needed to stop being such a  _ victim _ all the time, it was so  _ frustrating _ . “Trina, I—”

 

“Don’t start  _ explaining— _ ”

 

“Okay!” Mendel interjected, clapping his hands together. “Maybe it’s best for Marvin to tell his side of the story, okay, Trina?” he proffered, obviously trying to keep the peace. “The point of having you two meet was so you would work things out and not be so resentful, yeah? So let’s set aside our qualms with each other and just  _ talk _ . Can we do that?”

 

Trina took a deep breath. “Okay. Fine. Go on, Marvin.”

 

Marvin offered Mendel a weak smile before beginning to explain. “Trina, it’s not that I hate you or that I don’t like you or that I don’t love you. You’re an amazing girl, it’s just…” He swallowed. He knew this was coming, but he was hoping it wouldn’t be right this second, but he supposed it was the right thing to do. “Trina, I’m gay.”

 

Trina nodded gently, almost imperceptibly, refusing to make eye contact. She laughed a little, before saying, “That makes sense.”

 

Mendel looked between them, slightly relieved his official coming out didn’t go over as poorly as he expected. “It does?”

 

She made a noncommittal hand gesture. “Well, our sex life was never particularly invigorating. And I did catch him in bed with a man.” She seemed on the verge of tears. “It’s just hard to believe. A decade I’ve known him, and yet I didn’t know. I should’ve seen the signs.”

 

Marvin moved to reach for her, but retracted his hand before it could move too far. “Trina,  _ I  _ didn’t even know until a month ago, and I’ve known myself for seventeen years. It’s not your fault.”

 

Trina ignored what he said. “And, I mean, I tried  _ so hard _ to hate Whizzer. By all accounts, I should hate him. But… I really can’t. He’s genuinely nice, and he’s been so sweet to me through this process, and  _ God _ I wish I could hate him—”

 

“What? He’s been helping you?” interrupted Marvin. His gut wrenched at yet another secret Whizzer had been withholding from him. Call him narcissistic, but it bothered him that he had been talking to his ex-girlfriend and not him. Did Whizzer care more about  _ Trina _ than  _ him _ ?

 

“He didn’t tell you? He’s been talking to me daily and trying to make sure I’m doing okay. I think he feels guilty, and we’ve been helping each other as much as ourselves. So I can’t hate him, and I can’t hate you because you’re just…” She gestured vaguely. “So I’m having weird emotions.”

 

“Finish the story, Marv,” prodded Mendel.

 

Marvin rubbed his wrist bone anxiously. “He cornered me in a bathroom, and I know I should’ve said no, but we hooked up. I didn’t tell you because I was scared, I guess. I didn’t even know if I was gay or straight or bi, and I didn’t know how you’d react, and I didn’t realize how badly I had fucked up, I guess. I felt so guilty. But we did it again, and again, and again. Every time I felt I was digging myself deeper and deeper in this hole, and I figured that if I wasn’t going to pull myself out, I might as well keep digging.” His words blurred together as he spoke, trying to explain every iota of his behavior. That was a bad habit of his—always explaining, trying to justify everything he did to everyone. 

 

Trina was silent, and Marvin took that as a cue to keep talking. “I feel so fucking shitty about what I did, Trina. I couldn’t bring myself to stop in the moment. It was so new, I’d never been with a man before, and I just wanted to make sure I was gay before I told you, I guess.” His gaze darted around the room, but never lingered on Trina for more than a millisecond. “Look, Trina, I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

 

Mendel’s face lit up, as if he just had a breakthrough. “Are you willing to be friends again?”

 

Trina shifted in her seat. “Maybe in a while. But not right now. I… I need time.”

 

Marvin bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”

 

“Alright! Now everybody hug it out. All this brooding was starting to annoy me,” Mendel announced, standing from his chair and stretching.

 

“Don’t push it ‘Del,” Marvin sneered, leaning back in his chair and picking up his backpack by the strap. Trina chuckled once under her breath, and Marvin considered that a victory. “Later, Trina. It was nice talking to you,” Marvin said as he stood and made for the door, pulling his lanyard out of his pocket and fiddling with the keychain as he always did. She offered a gentle wave.

 

Maybe things could return to normal.

 

Marvin noticed Mendel turn red as Trina looked up at him with adoring eyes. Mendel placed a hand on her shoulder and she giggled.

 

Okay, maybe not  _ normal. _ Normal-adjacent. 

 

—

 

It was the night of Jason’s bar mitzvah. Marvin tugged on the cuffs of his suit jacket, standing near the refreshments table and wishing he knew more of Jason’s friends. He downed another plastic cup of fruit punch and exhaled, wondering when he became such a wallflower. It didn’t help that he was surrounded only by seventh graders and parents, making him the only one of his age as far as he could tell. Trina couldn’t make it—not that he’d wanted her to—and the rest of his friends didn’t know Jason, so he was alone.

 

He bitterly took another sip of too-sugary fruit punch.

 

“Marvin?”

 

His heart rate jumped at the sound of none other than Whizzer Brown’s voice. “I— Whizzer?” Marvin stuttered, crushing his cup in his hand subconsciously. He swallowed nervously. Why was he here? Of course, Whizzer was dressed to the nines, wearing a pastel pink dress shirt under a light gray suit and a striped tie. It was damn near criminal how well it fit him, noted Marvin as he toyed with the hem of his far-too-big button-up. “What’re you doing here?”

 

“What am I doing here?” Whizzer scoffed, putting his hand on his hip in typical Whizzer fashion. “I love Jason. That’s what I’m doing here.” He paused, taking a swig of fruit punch before continuing. “How do  _ you  _ know  _ Jason _ ?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” hissed Marvin. “Remember how I mentioned I tutor a kid on Fridays? Yeah.” He looked Whizzer up and down. “But how do you know him?”

 

Whizzer ran a hand through his hair and pulled Marvin gently aside, towards the men’s bathroom. “I’m the assistant baseball coach at the middle school twice a week. I’ve been trying to teach him how to hit the ball for months.”

 

Marvin laughed once under his breath. “Small world. Hey, where are you taking me?”

 

“Where do you think?” Whizzer opened the door to the bathroom, strode to the handicap stall, and shoved Marvin inside, locking it behind them.

 

“Are we gonna talk about what happened, or—” Marvin was cut off by Whizzer’s mouth capturing his own in a ferocious, intense, feral way, and he gasped. He squirmed as Whizzer’s hands roamed his body, melting under his heat quickly. As much as he appreciated the vigor and zeal, he thought back to what Cordelia and Charlotte said, to just talk to him. He finally gained the willpower to push him off, panting, “Whizzer, we can’t just hook up. I need to talk to you.”

 

Whizzer breathed heavily in front of him, pupils blown wide. “But that’s no  _ fun, _ ” he whined petulantly, nipping at Marvin’s neck.

 

“We can’t keep playing these games,” Marvin pleaded. “Are we together or not, Whizzer?” 

 

Whizzer withdrew, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He paused, obviously searching for something to say and not finding it. “I… I don’t do relationships,” he finally settled on, running a hand through perfectly pomaded hair and leaning back in. 

 

Marvin’s chest deflated and he exhaled sharply. That sounded bad, but Marvin spoke Whizzer’s language; it wasn’t a rejection. “Whizzer, I cheated on my girlfriend for you. I chose you over my girlfriend of five years,” he whispered, feeling self hatred curl in his gut. “I-I want to be with you. Despite the fact that you’re a self-centered, narcissistic, spiteful bitch, I want to be with you.” He sounded pathetic, even to himself.

 

Whizzer bit his lip, and Marvin swallowed the arousal in his throat. He seemed deep in thought for an excruciatingly long amount of time that was probably only a minute, then said, “I feel the same way, but I don’t want… I don’t want this, our passion,  _ us, _ to fade.” He talked slowly, methodically, as if he was calculating and planning every word. “I don’t want us to fall into the same rut you and Trina fell into, or the same rut I see almost every other couple fall into.” Another dense pause. “I don’t want us to feel trapped.”

 

Marvin looked up at him, thankful that he finally opened up. “You don’t need to worry about that. I don’t think a day will come when you’re not ridiculously attractive,” he smirked, taking a step closer. “Let’s just be together and not worry about tomorrow.”

 

This time Whizzer pushed him off, his arms trembling as he put them in front of his face. “No. No, I can’t, Marvin.”

 

“Why not?” Marvin begged, reaching for his wrist.

 

“Because I’m in love with you, Marvin!” burst Whizzer, tears brimming on his long eyelashes. “I’m in love with you, and that scares the shit out of me,” he yelled, voice hoarse. “I don’t love people. Whizzer fucking Brown does not love people. Whizzer Brown fucks cute boys and leaves. Whizzer Brown gives a blowjob, gets up, and leaves with no lingering feelings. Whizzer Brown doesn’t fall for the ambiguously-straight guy in a devoted heterosexual relationship. Whizzer Brown doesn’t fall asleep while spooning the guy he gave a goddamn blowjob to in the baseball field bathroom. Whizzer Brown doesn’t wear his boytoy’s shirts, and he certainly doesn’t keep it because it smells like said boytoy. Whizzer Brown doesn’t fucking fall in love, okay?” he cried, gesturing wildly with shaky, shaky hands. He seemed unhinged, like he was nearly losing his mind—a rare look for the ever-composed Whizzer.

 

Marvin stood, unsure of what to do, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Whizzer loved him back.  _ Whizzer loved him back.  _ After weeks of pining and praying and wishing and fantasizing of domesticity, Whizzer Brown actually loved him back. “Whizzer, I—” Marvin began, but was interrupted by Whizzer.

 

“And it’s fucking terrifying! It’s terrifying! You don’t know what it’s like! I’ve never been in love before. Blowjobs, handjobs, quickies, you name it, I’ve done it. I know how to do those. I know what’s expected, and I know how to shield myself, and I know to be emotionless and closed-off. But I’ve never loved anyone before. Normally I just want to fuck him, but now I want to wake up next to him. Now I want to sit on the phone with him for hours. Now I want to fucking  _ hold his hand  _ and shit.” Whizzer whispered, closing in on himself the more he spoke. 

 

Marvin cut Whizzer off by wrapping his arms around him, squeezing him tightly. He felt Whizzer freeze under his grasp, and then he melted, slowly curling his arms around Marvin as he cried into his shoulder. “I love you too, Whizzer,” Marvin murmured, rubbing his back as his breath hitched at his words.

 

They stood like that for a second, or a minute, or a few minutes, or an hour, just Whizzer and Marvin, Marvin and Whizzer, same as always but without the fighting and without the emotional walls and without the bickering. Just complete vulnerability. Marvin had never experienced that before.

 

Eventually they pulled apart, resting their foreheads against each other. It was quiet, and then Marvin broke the silence. So quiet, it was barely audible. “I love you.”

 

Whizzer wiped a tear from his eye before saying, “I don’t know how to do relationships.”

 

“I know how to start,” Marvin smiled, grabbing Whizzer’s hand in his own and pecking him on the lips.

 

When they finally left the bathroom, hands still entwined, Jason quickly found them and grinned, throwing an arm around each of them to hug them both. “Hey guys! I’m so glad you made up!”

 

Marvin shot Whizzer a look, and Whizzer shot Marvin an equally confused look, and Marvin spoke. “How did you know we were… fighting?”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. “I’ve listened to both of you whine about the other for the past three weeks.” When Marvin and Whizzer were too shocked to reply, Jason continued. “Either I’m at baseball practice and Whizzer is rambling about some cute-but-oblivious theatre geek he met or I’m getting tutored and Marvin is daydreaming about the hot baseball player. It’s not rocket science, I just put two and two together.”

 

Whizzer started laughing out of pure disbelief and Marvin chuckled as well, amazed at how observant his bad-at-math faux little brother was. “Holy shit, Jason. Did you plan this?”

 

Jason just smiled at them, absolutely beaming. “You two are some of the most important people in my life, so… yeah. I want you to be happy. Together.” Marvin reached forward and pulled him into a headlock, giving him a noogie (careful to avoid the yarmulke, of course). He squawked in defense, and Marvin could hear Whizzer laughing behind him. He could feel his chest ache with warmth, and love, and affection.

 

He loosened his grip on Jason, kissed his forehead, and let him go, watching him flail and fix his hair. “I love you, kid.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes and gave him one last hug before saying, “Gross. I have to go, they’re doing the chair thing.”

 

Whizzer looked at Marvin before grinning slyly. “I want to launch him into the ceiling.”

 

Marvin smirked, grabbing Whizzer by the arm and following Jason onto the dance floor.

 

—

  
  


A month later.

 

“Marv, can you tell Cordelia I have ownership of the aux cord due to boyfriend privileges?” whined Whizzer over the smooth vocals of Cyndi Lauper, patting his boyfriend’s knee to get his attention. Sometimes Marvin regretted having Whizzer in the front seat and Trina, Mendel, and the lesbians designated to the backseat. (Fitting six people in a four-seater is a skill Marvin was particularly proud of.)

 

“I’m trying to fucking  _ drive, _ Whizzer,” Marvin laughed, flicking on his turn signal and shooing his hand off of his leg. “But give him the aux, Cordelia, there’s only so much synthpop we can take.”

 

Cordelia whined loudly. “He always gets the aux cord! It’s unfair!” she cried, unplugging the cord from her phone and reluctantly handing it to Whizzer in the front seat.

 

Whizzer stuck his tongue out at her. “Next time you suck his dick you can get the cord, okay, ‘Delia?”

 

“TMI!” yelled Mendel, plugging his ears.

 

“You better unplug those ears, Mendel, because you’re about to be blessed with the musical stylings of Toto,” Whizzer announced, opening Spotify on his phone eagerly.

 

As he drove, Marvin reflected on how his life turned out. The past two months had been a hectic whirlwind, but the dust was beginning to settle, and everything was turning out alright. He listened to Charlotte, Mendel, Whizzer belt the chorus to Africa, not particularly on tune but more than made up for by pure passion. His ex-girlfriend sat in the middle of it, eyes glimmering with mirth as she laughed at her now-boyfriend’s enthusiasm. His boyfriend sat beside him, looking over to him and singing into a closed fist as if it were a microphone. His best friends danced as much as they could in the limited space they had in the backseat, managing to fit in a sprinkler and a robot here and there.

 

He loved all of these idiots.

 

Marvin pulled into a parking spot, realizing he was ridiculously crooked, yet still in the lines—the one thing having a comically tiny car was useful for. He got out, as did the rest of the people in the car, and grasped hands with Whizzer, a new-yet-familiar experience, as they walked towards the diamond. Marvin also felt a smaller hand slide into his free one and looked at Charlotte happily, simply glad to have friends like her. Trina and Mendel followed quickly behind, laughing about something esoteric.

 

They sat in the bleachers, talking amicably as Mendel grabbed everyone concessions. The players rushed out to the field, and all six of them were on their feet, screaming and hollering. “Go Jason!” yelled Charlotte as loud as she possibly could, cupping her hands around her mouth for maximum impact.

 

A shy Jason meekly waved at them before returning his focus to the coach. “Calm down, Char, it’s only Little League,” chuckled Marvin.

 

“I’m proud of him,” Charlotte argued, taking the soda that Mendel offered and sipping it to punctuate her statement.

 

The game flew by in a blur of the lesbians screaming, Trina and Mendel trying their best to helpfully encourage him, and Whizzer running down to the field to talk to Jason. Once Whizzer returned, it was the final inning, the other team was winning, two outs, two strikes, the bases were loaded... If Jason was going to suddenly become good at baseball, this was the time.

 

Marvin thought back to how this entire ordeal started and ended—in the bleachers at a baseball diamond. This time, though, he had a cute baseball player clinging to his arm in suspense, two lesbians jumping into the air behind him, and his ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend grabbing Marvin’s shoulder. He had a network of friends he knew he could depend on, a loving relationship, and a flourishing sex life, if he did say so himself. As scared as he was of change, his life had certainly changed for the better,

 

_ Smack! _

 

Jason hit the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a ride. Thank you so so much for reading, and as always comments are greatly appreciated! (I may be writing more Falsettos soon, so keep an eye out for that)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Talk to me on tumblr @ xsalazzle about my fics or Falsettos or whatever you want! Comments also make my day <3333


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